Morning, Sleeping Beauty ( I'm so sorry)
Paris is a beautiful sight in the morning.
Remy stares out the window at the light slowly sweeping over the city. His view is slightly encumbered by a head of black hair pressed against his chin, Lauraâs body curled tightly against his. Itâs not her presence that roused him; he didnât even realize that she had slipped into his bed in the middle of the night. Even in sleep, sheâs careful not to lean against his injured shoulder. He wonders then just how much progress she realizes sheâs made. No stiffness in her at all, sheâs snuggled against him as easily as breathing. Remy doubts that anyone could imagine seeing her like this, peaceful and seeking comfort without worrying that she might seem weak for it.
Pride stirs in him and he smiles down at her. With a paternal tenderness, he gives her a chaste kiss on the forehead. Iâm so proud of you, Laura. Youâve come farther than anyone could have imagined. Lord knows it wasnât easy. Tucking her head back underneath his chin, Remy settles back into the blankets easily, pushing one up to block their view of the sun before closing his eyes once more. This time, he doesnât even bother to listen to the thoughts that keep reminding him that he shouldnât be thinking of her as his daughter.
